Best Left Unexplained
by Jack's Shadow
Summary: 10.5 and Rose attend a Torchwood party. The Master is there, too. No one is really sure why that is.


**AN:** This wasn't originally humorous at all, but I cannot picture John Simm and be serious. And thus, this slightly cracky and moderately OOC ficlet was born.

* * *

It's another bloody Torchwood party.

The Doctor doesn't really like attending them; not at all. Rose tries to help him the best she can, but this is her job and she's got higher-ups to schmooze and boring people to impress.

He's standing sort of morosely in the corner, having scared away his last conversational partner by speaking a little too flippantly about Cybermen, and feeling sort of sorry for himself when he hears Rose saying his name behind him. He turns to face her with a thankful grin and finds himself staring at a horribly familiar and infinitely disturbing face.

"Doctor, this is Harold Saxon. He's a new field agent at Torchwood 2." Harry grins and the Doctor stares. "You," he says blankly. "You're not dead. How are you not dead?"

Harold Saxongives him a quizzical look. The Doctor scowls. He's seen a dozen faces on his oldest and dearest enemy, and a new one isn't enough to throw him. Granted, this isn't even really a new one, but it is most definitely not some innocent alternate universe human Mr. Saxon. Besides, he can see the Void stuff. Their eyes lock, and slowly, the Master smiles.

"I didn't think I'd run into _you _at a Torchwood party. Of all the bloody people." He snorts. "Been hopping dimensions, have we?"

The Doctor beams. "It was only a matter of time. I get around, you know." The Master wears a strangely giddy expression. "_Doctor. _How I have missed this. Now I'll have someone who will probably stop my incredibly complicated universe-destruction plot. It's no fun plotting against humans; they just run around and scream a lot."

The Doctor very nearly snickers, but that would be juvenile. "You don't belong over here, however it is you got here," he says flatly. The Master scoffs. "I'd suggest you try killing me again, but honestly, you got snot all over my best suit last time." The Doctor smiles. "I'd really like to keep you, actually, but you're needed elsewhere. And besides, it'd be bad press, having a man chained in the basement."

"Bad press?" the Master echoes. "Since when do you…" "Uh, hi there," Rose says, a little awkwardly, having been failed to be introduced. He stares at her a moment and connects the dots, the largest of which is the diamond ring on her finger. He shoots the Doctor an accusing look. "You have a human wife? Aren't you the hypocrite – and haven't we learned a little something about human wives recently, by the way?" The Doctor shrugs.

"You could never contain me, anyway. I would surely escape and kill again!" He says the last bit with a dramatic flair. The Doctor remains serious. "You've killed quite a few people lately. You're dangerous." The Master rolls his eyes.

"And you have always forgiven me. You harnessed six billion minds to your being and became a god, and your revenge was bloody _hugging _me. You _cried_."

"You sobbed all over my favorite coat when I sonicked your television. It's not a great indicator of weakness. Madness, maybe, but between the two of us.…" There's a pause.

"I did miss you," he says frankly. The Master nods a gruff agreement. "So why is it, exactly, that you aren't trying to staple me to your ugly coral struts right now?."

The Doctor brings his hand to the Master's temple in reply. Both jump. "Did you lose a fight with a Chameleon arch?" the Master snaps, wide-eyed. The Doctor shakes his head. "Let me show you more."

They close their eyes and stand in silence in a completely serious and not at all awkward moment of telepathy. The Master sighs and flashes a wolfish smile. "Victorious, now there's a word. I bet he's more fun to fight to the death with than you."

"Actually, I think it's most likely he'll conveniently forget a few things so he can excuse taking on a psychopath as a companion." Rose coughs rather abruptly. "Sorry, Doctor, who's 'he"?" She looks a bit peeved at being entirely discluded from the conversation.

"The other Doctor, the proper Time Lord one. He's gone a bit mad and he's meddling with things he ought not to. I figure if he's got another insane Time Lord to cackle maniacally when he meddles, he'll work out how stupid he's being and stop doing it."

"How d'ya know what he's doing?" Rose says. "Oh, residual telepathy, you know how these metacrises are." Rose nods slowly, then eyes the Master warily. "Another Time Lord?" He gives her a cheerful thumbs up. "Thought they were all dead." The Doctor shrugs. "So did I, 'til he went and stole my TARDIS."

The Master snorts. "_Please. _Taking a Type 40 off your hands, you should have paid me. She didn't exactly come into your possession legally, anyway." Rose arches an eyebrow.

"Right, that's enough nemesis/wife interaction for today! C'mon, Master, let's get you zapped over to your universe." He begins to stride purposefully off, no one following him. When he realizes this, he turns on the spot. "How'd you get over here, anyway?"

The Master shrugs. Rose frowns. The Doctor grins brightly. "Oh, we've got Rose and two Time Lord brains. We'll figure it out eventually."

With that, they all made for the basement to fiddle with the Dimension Cannon. At the Master's suggestion that they combine it with an ordinary toaster oven, they successfully produced a machine capable of accurately crossing dimensions without jeopardizing existence. However, this took them so long that the proper Time Lord Doctor regenerated and besides, they all became awfully attached to one another, so they used the Dimension Cannon to make fishsticks instead and had a lovely picnic.


End file.
